


Ruby

by CJcipher64



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots, joshler - Fandom, tøp
Genre: AU, Bandom - Freeform, Brendon Urie - Freeform, M/M, Smut, Stay Alive, Suicide, angel devil au, josh dun - Freeform, joshler - Freeform, joshua dun - Freeform, please be careful reading this, ruby - Freeform, selfharm, this is a triggering fic, twenty one pilots - Freeform, tyler joseph - Freeform, tøp - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 15:32:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19379578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJcipher64/pseuds/CJcipher64
Summary: JOSHLER FICIn which Tyler falls and becomes something sinister, a stark contrast to his original purity, and Josh earns clarity he feels he doesn't deserve.It's unlikely for the Devil to fall for an angel, but rebel red carnations bloom between this fateful pair.A/N- H E L L O. THIS STORY CONTAINS LOTS OF SENSITIVE CONTENT INCLUDING: rape references, suicide, suicidal thoughts/actions, self harm, violence, gore, sexual content, ect... IMPORTANT TAGS AND WARNINGS WILL BE ADDED AS THE STORY IS UPDATED, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, BUT PLEASE ENJOY.ll-// STAY ALIVE 1-800-273-8255 PLEASE CALL THIS NUMBER IF YOU ARE IN NEED (national suicide prevention hotline) THIS IS YOUR SIGN TO STAY ALIVE





	Ruby

My hands are scarred,

My throat is bruised,

And my heart,

Has been abused.

 

I'm an angel

Fallen down

I'll never tell you,

Of the clouds.

 

Seven years

I descend,

I hope I'm not

My only friend.

 

I created this world,

I can tear it apart,

Enable creativity,

Let me play my part.

 

All alone I sing my song,

But I hope they sing along,

I hope you sing along,

Someone sing my song.

 

PLAY- Neon Gravestones, by Twenty One Pilots- TO IMMERSE YOUR BEING IN THE BEGINNING OF THE CHAPTER

 

JUNE 201X

 

Tyler was drowning, sinking like a rock. The cinder blocks chained to his ankles pulled him farther into the depth of an ocean he'd never know the name of. He was sick of this existence, tired of following people that had been promised a place in heaven, meant to protect them, meant to love them unconditionally. He wanted to return, go back to heaven, he'd already lived his life, he didn't need to live yet another one on Earth.

 

Plummeting steadily, pressure built up in Tyler's ears and lungs. His wings soaked with cold, floating behind him as he fell. The air left his lungs, bubbling passed his lips, unseen as the night and void of dark water swallowed anything that light once touched. Tyler felt his mind slip away, the salty water stinging the shallow cuts littering his wrists and thighs, filling his lungs, beating down on his body. His head was pounding, and he convulsed as he sank, no more bubbles escaped from his mouth, there was no air left to trap.

 

Stealing a small boat and riding out into the ocean with plans of suicide weren't expected of an angel, or anyone, but Tyler was desperate, his thoughts twisted and his motivations dim. His purpose was to lead others in the right direction to their lord and savior, to help them have a better life until it was their own time, but how could he do that if he didn't even know how to lead himself in the right direction; his own life was mislead. The fact that he'd made it to heaven was surprising, though he wasn't even sure if there was a hell to get into.

 

Living a life with a mother that neglected him, and a father that abused him in almost every way imaginable, it was sick and twisted, he only just held back from killing his own child. Tyler had never had friends, he could barely define the word, his mother left and his father only kept him around to make money, to fulfill his sick desires, and to do any chore requested of him without question. The boy's body had been disgraced in every way, raped by men and women alike, sold by his father like a sex toy, beaten until he was bloodied and bruised. There were so many old, grainy, videos of him crying for help around some older man's member, videos that he wished didn't exist, hidden on old video tapes. Waking up with his father's hands around his neck as he felt like he was being torn in two from in between his legs, being unable to speak or breathe. There was no shoulder he could cry on, no one to help him, he was all alone. Why should he be someone's guardian when there was no one to protect him?

 

How was he supposed to give love when he'd never felt it himself?

 

This wouldn't be the first time Tyler's committed suicide, far from it really. In his first life, his human life, he'd ended it early, being unable to live with his father anymore and finding no other escape but death. But as an angel he'd died many times, killing himself time and time over the years he'd been dead and reborn as an angel. Usually, once an angel succeeded in leading someone to heaven, they were welcome back into heaven to stay, this would be the seventh time that Tyler was unsuccessful. He can't bear watching someone live through their life, staying by their side and watching them live their life peacefully or sadly, he didn't know how to assist with their lives. The first life he'd been assigned, he watched the girl kill herself, slicing her wrists as she screamed into a grimy bathroom mirror, blood flowing freely until she collapsed. Tyler had watched with tears in his eyes, trying to grab her, trying to stop her, trying to console her, trying to stop the blood. So much blood. He'd followed her life since she'd been born in the hospital room, yet he couldn't save someone who's life he had guided.

 

Who's life he'd guided wrong.

 

Upon failing, he'd copied the girl, crying and screaming apologies by her side as he ripped into his wrists and bled, his wails unheard. Normally, death wasn't seen as a bad thing to angels, it meant they'd completed their duties, but the girl had no belief, the girl had lost all hope in a faith that she had forgotten. Her beliefs were dedicated to another religion, a false religion, she was immediately thrown from the pearly gates, her soul plummeting from the clouds and becoming lost. Tyler wasn't entirely sure how the logic worked, being that he had had little to no belief during his time on Earth, but somehow he'd made it inside those famous gates, his soul not yet lost.

 

So here he was, dropping to the bottom of the ocean, convulsing against the chains that dragged him farther and farther, ending his life once again. Since the first life he'd "guarded", Tyler hadn't had to face another suicide, but instead was gifted with people with happy lives, pure dreams, great homes and friends. The only problem was that Tyler couldn't face them, couldn't face their happiness. He should've been able to just stay by the side of the people he was assigned, living peacefully besides them and providing them with happy dreams, but he couldn't. The joy that he had to witness pained him, he couldn't relate to anything, he can't relate to anyone. His heart was trained to beat fast with fear, pain, edge, he doesn't know anything other than his permanent melancholy. He'd faced five more lives after the only person he felt he could relate to, this life being his sixth life on Earth as an angel, seven total, and he hoped it'd be his last.

 

The cinder blocks thudded dully on the ocean floor, the chains settling with them. Tyler's now still, cold, and pale body floating to the floor, his large white wings lightly disturbing the sand as silence left the angel's body to the Earth.

 

~

 

Tyler opened his eyes to the bright light that was the kingdom of heaven, he was already passed the gates and accepted to heaven. His ankles felt sore, his throat and chest ached, his head felt stuffed, and his wings, tucked close behind him, felt heavy. Usually upon entering heaven, he was greeted with the feeling of weightlessness, feeling nothing hindering his body, feeling as though he was the embodiment of light itself, the absence of the feeling left him weighty and tired. He trudged along the soft ground of fluffy clouds as he passed other angels who'd rightfully earned their place in the promised land, not that Tyler didn't deserve a spot, but more so was unable to obtain one.

 

Faces he'd seen before littered the land, but more that he didn't recognize at all, the heavens were just as vast as the Earth itself, if not infinitely larger, souls usually being placed in an area with people who passed away in similar places and times during their first life. Of course, you could easily travel to find family or friends, it was in no way to hard to find loved ones.

 

The angel got looks from faces new and old, their faces filled with looks of anger, disgust, sadness, disappointment. Tyler had been used to these expressions in his first life on Earth, but in heaven, the boy hadn't been expecting them. Tyler hung his head, looking at his feet as he walked, not exactly knowing where he was going, but knowing where he'd end up. The light flaps of fluffy wings and the tinkling laughter always stopped when Tyler passed by, his glances catching souls looking at him in ways he wished he'd never have to see again, never have to be looked at like again. He knows seven deaths is unlucky, but this was ridiculous.

 

"Tyler," the voice both quiet and booming called his name kindly.

 

Tyler hissed under his breath, keeping his head held down, watching the feet of other angels step back and out of his line of vision.

 

"You're back, quite early, I must say," soft, red light emanated from the archangel, "I believe you promised that you'd make it this time, and...? I do know that it isn't Jenna's time."

 

"You already know what I did," Tyler gritted out, his jaw tight.

 

"I do," Azrael nodded, his strong, expansive, and bright wings beating lightly. "I know your mental state isn't exactly at it's peak performance, Tyler, but the Lord has given you every opportunity to help you earn your place in heaven. Ending your life repeatedly is ungrateful, you have been given too many chances, you're taking them for granted."

 

Tyler's breath was shaky, his distaste for the situation high, he wanted -needed- to leave this discussion. He lifted his eyes to the powerful being that hovered in front of him. "I-I can't, I tried, I can't do it. I can't." The words were barely audible as his throat betrayed him.

 

"Maybe you cannot, but your heart can, Tyl-"

 

"You don't know my heart, not the way you know my name."

 

The archangel stared at Tyler, his eyes warm, unconditional love radiating from his expression. Tyler hated it. Tyler hated him.

 

"That may be true, Tyler, though you know you cannot stay, not until you have completed your role as a guardian. There are no exceptions, not here, even though you are doing your best to stand out. Next sun rise, without argument, you will be assigned a new ward and try again, you will complete your assignment. Failure to do so will result in your expulsion from the kingdom of God. Usually, Gabriel would tell you this, but I have a better connection with you than the others. Rest, Tyler, your body is no longer welcome in heaven, hence your pain, failure to complete your assignment will make sure your soul is no longer welcome either. I will see you when you wake."

 

The archangel disappeared in a flash of bright light and soft warmth, Tyler hadn't even gotten the chance to protest, to beg. He looked around, other angels were still around, keeping a wide berth from Tyler, the expressions Tyler abhorred still on their faces. He huffed, not childishly, but tiredly, annoyedly. He flapped his sore wings a short way to a large garden, he hadn't flown in quite some time, he had missed the feeling. Tyler landed, roughly due to his exhaustion from coming back from drowning he supposed. The angel sat himself under a sizable tree and tried to get comfortable. He was irked that he'd have to return to Earth almost immediately once again, but at least when he woke up he knew what he would do. He'd let himself be assigned without argument, then he'd kill himself, his soul would be lost, and he'd finally be free, finally be gone.

 

With his plans in his head, Tyler dozed, taking a light sleep in the shade of the tree as a night-like state fell over heaven.

 

~

 

His rest didn't last long. A short, indiscernible amount of time later, Tyler felt his body being dragged through the garden at an alarming, unforgiving pace. Tyler was quickly alert and alarmed, his wings flaring out and his hands clawing at ground that was covered in soil, fallen leaves and petals, and the garden's plants. Tyler cried out in pain as he was dragged through rose and briar bushes, thorns scratching over his face, arms, and legs, snagging the soft feathers of his wings and ripping them from his body. His hair caught in the briars and thorns, gripping the hair until it tore from his head. He scrambled to get purchase on the ground he was being dragged against. He couldn't see anything pulling him, it was just a force pulling his body mercilessly through whatever may have been in the way of the path Tyler was cutting into the garden.

 

Everything stung, everything hurt and Tyler felt like he couldn't breath again. His hands were being torn apart as he tried to still himself, his arms slowly turning red. Blood was steadily flowing from Tyler's nose and all the fresh cuts he was receiving all over his body, the once white toga-like gown he wore providing little to no protection. Screams and cries for help left Tyler's mouth, he hadn't been so vocalized since his first role as a guardian. His already raw throat ripped sounds from Tyler's chest, he felt like a goner already, he couldn't catch his breath.

 

The dragging suddenly ceased. Tyler was stopped in a small clearing just outside the garden, but also right in front of a break in the clouds, facing an unrealistic sight that was the plummet down to Earth. The angel, trying desperately to breath and keep breathing, looked around the clearing more, noticing a crowd of angels surrounding him, some crouched, others standing. They all looked like they had passed young, around his age or older by a few years, or at least they kept their appearances' that way. Tyler sat up.

 

"P-please..." he groaned, trying to push himself up, "I don't know w-what's going on, please h-help me.."

 

One of the angels that had been crouched down stood and sauntered over to Tyler, his face unreadable as he closed the short distance between them. He looked like he belonged in heaven, his features perfect looking, his hair light, his appearance delicate yet sharp, his skin fair. Tyler's eyes searched the other boys face as he struggled to try to get to his feet.

 

"Help you?" The blonde narrowed his eyes at Tyler, smirking before he raised his foot and brought it down on Tyler's back, bringing the injured boy back to the ground. "Why would I help someone as useless as you? Someone who disgraces our Lord constantly?"

 

Tyler cried out in pain and shock, his cheek stinging as it was pressed into the ground, his legs trapped underneath him. Blood still flowing freely.

 

"Why," the blonde continued, "would we," he motioned to the other angels that were closing in around Tyler, "help a murderer, a whore? You don't belong here, you're a horrible creature of sin, you deserve to have your soul lost."

 

Tyler heard soft hiccups of pain, both emotional and physical, escape his lips. Water from his eyes mixed with the blood. He was already aware that he was useless, he already battled with his sins, his guilt, his faith.

 

"I am n-not a murderer." Tyler pushed the words passed his lips, blood and tears running into his mouth, salt and rust.

 

"Your first ward wouldn't agree with me if she knew how you failed her." The angel dug his heel further into Tyler's back, causing him to yell out. The boy's blood stained his wings, his gown, his skin, even the soft white clouds that made up most the now soil-free ground.

 

The other angels had closed in, some roughly grabbing him and making him sit up after the angel who seemed to be in the lead removed his foot. Tyler groaned, every movement was becoming excruciating. He felt his arms being bound roughly, then his body. His battered wings were shoved against his body as whatever was binding him was wrapped tightly around him, pinning his wings down, before it was secured around his neck. It felt like barbed wire, every tiny movement had another cut slicing his skin open, his wrists being rubbed raw by it. Tyler knew that if he tried to stretch his wings out that he would either suffocate or decapitate himself.

 

Tyler wanted to ask "why?", but he already new the answer. Tears mostly caused by pain now slipped down his face, he was ready to die, and he planned on it either way. His hands felt useless, his neck raw, his voice almost useless. His throat was lifted to the sky, his hands feeling like they were going to be torn off.

 

The hiss and roar of a fire starting startled Tyler from his pain. One of the many angels surrounding him had lit a torch, the flames bright against the gentle darkness that settled itself across the heavens. Tyler swallowed, the movement causing him to be pricked and the bindings to slightly tighten around his body. He knew his bones would be what soon made the fire grow.

 

"I need something to kill me," Tyler whispered, barely audible as the bindings dug farther into his skin.

 

"Well then, today's your lucky day," the blonde angel said, his face twisted in disgust as he looked upon Tyler, bloodied, beaten. He chuckled, "You must be used to this type of treatment, huh Tyler? With your daddy sticking his cock down you throat?"

 

Tyler roared, whatever energy he had left suddenly bursting to the surface. He lurched forward, trying to attack the offending angel, only to blanch when the barbs around his body cut deep and his breathe was caught in his throat. His cry of pain was cut off, tears flowing freely from his eyes, anger making his vision blur and whatever blood that was left in his body boil. The blonde angel only laughed again and caught Tyler's chin in his grip.

 

"Word about your whore ass goes around pretty fast, fucking slut. Faggots like you don't belong here." The blonde sneered in Tyler's face, the bloodied boy saw red but couldn't move. "Light him."

 

The angel holding the torch stepped forward, most the others stepped back, other than two that dragged him towards the drop to Earth. A feeling of dread settled itself in Tyler's stomach, they were going to throw him off.

 

The angel in control of the flame kept a neutral expression as she lowered the torch near his neck. The heat was so close to his face, his skin itched and he felt his eyelashes burn away. Tyler only focused his eyes on the angel in front of him, steeling his nerves, he was ready to go.

 

Wasn't he?

 

The torch went to his skin, lighting the barbed binding around him instantly, like they had been soaked in alcohol or gasoline. Tyler's skin burned, he screamed, the wires cutting into him while the fire started to eat at him, his wings becoming destroyed. The pain was excruciating, his neck, wings, and hands taking the brunt of the flames. His wails filled the once still air, ear piercing and pained, a sound you should never hear in heaven. He'd felt so much pain in his existence, that he could say with confidence this wasn't the worst pain, yet, in a way, it was the worst. Tyler was being rejected from the one place that was meant to accept him, meant to love him, meant to protect him, and that hurt more than any flame could.

 

The shrieks of agony leaving Tyler's throat were raw, his vision going black around the edges. The last things Tyler saw before he was kicked backwards and into the sky were the other angels staring at him as he fell from their kingdom, some smiling, some guilty, others disgusted.

 

No one saved him.

He plummeted, the fire growing weaker with the rush of wind, before going out completely. The pain left over by the fire couldn't be felt because of the cold rush of wind. Tyler's wings, burned and bound to his body, were useless as he fell. His bound hands were numb, and his blood and tears trailed after him as he fell. The fact that he was still breathing surprised him, though the air was being quickly snatched from his lungs as he descended, not making the action easy.

 

A trail of blood, tears, and sweat fell with Tyler as his screams were swept away with the wind that rushed passed his ears. The wires around him dug into his flesh, the skin of his neck raw, he was unable to feel his wrists or hands, everything was painful. All Tyler could ask for was death, to finally have an end, he was so sick of existing, it hurt too much for him to handle any longer. Heaven didn't want nor need him, Tyler wouldn't be missed by anything, by anyone. He was more of a ghost than an angel, his soul might as well have been lost the entire time.

 

Tyler continued to drop, he caught sight of land, a city, he was falling right towards it, ready to created a small crater as he painted the ground with his useless blood. Tyler did his best to keep his eyes open as he plummeted, watching as the ground of a road occupied with traffic grew closer and closer. The angel wasn't sure if the people below could see his body falling to it's doom, or if he was just as invisible as he'd always been. He wasn't sure if he even wanted them to see.

 

His eyes stayed open until Tyler couldn't bear it any longer, his eyes shut tight as his body tensed for the impact. His teeth clenched, his legs bent in towards his cowering body, his neck craning away from the barbs. Tyler's eyes flinched, expecting to be pancaked to the city floor, except the impact never came.

 

Tyler kept falling, right through the city, through the Earth's crust, he'd been falling so long that he hadn't realized that he'd stopped breathing minutes ago. Tyler watched as Earth's crust went from caverns filled with magma, a searing heat that made his flesh feel like it was bubbling, into a large expansive place, except there was a sky.

 

A blood red sky with fiery orange clouds, a sun that radiated harsh rays that were anything but welcoming. Though the colors filling the strange land were eccentric and seemed bright, the entire aura was dark, in fact, everything was dark, the land below had so many hidden crevices and caverns, mysterious lakes of molten lava, rugged hills of rock, yet everything was unclear. Of course, the unclear-ness could be Tyler dying from his lack of oxygen, his lack of blood, his lack of any will to live. Even though his curiosity was spiked by the new sights of such a cursed place, Tyler felt deep dread, feeling that he wouldn't survive this fall to fulfill his curiosity.

 

It was seconds, such a short time, but Tyler caught glimpses of shadows that radiated evil, shadows that emanated lost, shadows that wanted help, shadows that his soul called to before Tyler's world went dark.

 

His body cratered the rough surface of the unknown world, dust made of reds, browns, and black puffed around, veiling the fallen angel. The white of his wings and gown almost completely covered, the pure glow he once had gone. The dust didn't get a chance to settle before Tyler's limp body was carefully lifted into the dry air of the land by an unknown force, bringing him into view of the shadows that wandered the strange place, yet out of reach from them as well. His body was lightly pulled towards a darkness in the area, revealed to be an intricate castle-like mansion upon closer range. Tyler, limp yet miraculously breathing, was unaware of anything.

 

Until he was.

 

~

 

Tyler woke up in a large canopied bed made of dark red fabrics filled with downy like materials built on a black mahogany frame. The comforter and pillows swamped Tyler's small and sore body, but his eyes were open, he was unbound, and he was inherently alive. To say that the angel was confused would be an extreme understatement.

 

Tyler lifted his hands to rub at his eyes, only to find his arms covered in bloodied bandages, he winced; movement wasn't fun. He lifted the weighty covers off of him with a careful effort, revealing almost the entirety of his body to be covered in bandages. His abdomen was tightly wrapped, binding his wings to his body. The fabric around his neck itched, but he didn't touch or pull at it, knowing it was there to cover his wounds. The healer was nowhere to be seen.

 

The angel pulled his fragile body to the edge of the bed, carefully swinging his legs over the side, seeing his stained feet touch the cold floor made of dark wood. Tyler did his best to stand, keeping his weight balanced on the bed behind him. He hissed as his scarred skin stretched beneath the bandages, most likely pulling some closed cuts back open. The angel noticed that he had loose basketball shorts hung around his waist, which made the situation increasingly more odd, he hadn't worn modern clothing since his human life. The room Tyler stood in was neat, though to say it was simple wouldn't be true, being that the sparse furniture was ornate and very expensive looking. A detailed vanity stood proudly at one wall, made of the same dark wood with a mirror that looked worn with age, no items rested on it. The room looked like it was used but no one had lived there, like it had zero personality.

 

The perfect place to put Tyler.

 

Large doors separated the walls a little ways away from the bed, Tyler shuffled his creaking bones towards them, barely making it there as he collapsed against them. He groaned quietly in pain, trying to lean back against the doors without crushing what was left of his wings against them. He was panting as he rested against the doors, his body yelling at him. The blood that rushed passed his ears as he breathed heavily drowned out the sound of sharp footsteps, until the large door that Tyler had been leaning on swung backwards, causing the angel to make a small noise of surprise as he fell back and hit his head on the wooden floor below. Tyler groaned again as he laid there, still not registering the being standing above him.

 

"Fucking finally. You've been out a full fucking week, let there be light for fuck's sake."

 

Tyler's eyes flew open in shock, his surprised gaze fell upon a man that would probably be slightly taller than him were the angel standing. Tyler scrambled to sit up and get a better look at the man, but his injuries made him cry out and wince at his fast movement. A sigh was heard above him.

 

"Chill out, you're gonna make yourself pass out for another decade." The man's voice was silky smooth and deep, though it still sounded young, playful.

 

The rolling of wheels sounded near Tyler, and he caught sight of a basic looking wheelchair. Before he could comment, the man, who he still had yet to fully see, gently lifted Tyler up and into the chair. The man must've been strong because he did it so easily and carefully.

 

"W-what? Where am-?"

"Where are you?" The man chuckled as he stood behind the wheelchair and began to push Tyler along impressive hallways, everything was a shade of black, brown, or red. "Welcome to Hell, little angel."

 

Tyler's breath caught, "Hell? What? Why am I here? I should be dead..."

 

"Well you obviously fell from heaven, and it looks like it hurt."

 

Tyler wanted to glare at the man, but his body hurt too much for him to put the effort into turning his head.

 

"Who are you?"

 

The man chuckled again, an edge to the laugh now. "Satan, Father of Lies, The Deceiver, The Beast, The Devil... The universe's most eligible bachelor. You can choose, but my friends tend to call me Brendon."

 

"Lucifer..." Tyler whispered, his voice disbelieving.

 

"Nah, that was the guy before me, he was a real bummer. You'd think the first ruler of Hell would be a blast but he mostly just skulked around the balconies before it was my turn." The Devil laughed.

 

"Your turn?" Tyler asked lowly.

 

"Yeah... I'm the second fallen angel. You're the third, about damn time too, it's too stuffy around here for me. Being the ruler of Hell isn't all it's cracked up to be on the surface. Sure, it can be fun, but there's such limitations. You get sick of going out for a quick fuck eventually. Thousands of years watching the human race fuck up just isn't amusing anymore." The playfulness in the man's voice wasn't as prominent as he spoke.

 

"What are you talking about?" Tyler wasn't really enjoying the direction that Satan's words were going.

 

"How hard did you hit your head when you dropped. I'm saying my turn's over, it's yours now."

 

"I don't even know you." Tyler scoffed, he was getting uncomfortable.

"Sure you do. You're Tyler Joseph, beaten and abused child of the oh so loving Kelly and Chris Joseph. All alone and hurt that the world hated you, until you couldn't take it anymore and you jumped from a quite fancy building, might I add. Those vide-"

Tyler cut him off before he could finish his sentence, anger bubbling up inside him, "How do you know that?"

He heard yet another chuckle before Tyler felt the chair being suddenly turned around, towards the man behind him.

"Tyler," red eyes and perfect skin greeted the angel's face, short dark hair framed short and sharp flesh toned horns budding from the man's admittedly large forehead. Tattoos littered one of his arms, color climbing the skin until it was hidden by a dark band t-shirt. The man wore skinny jeans and nice black shoes. His wide grin included straight teeth and fangs. The hands gripping the armrests of the wheelchair were clean and clawed. The man was both terrifying and beautiful. "I'm the fucking Devil, I practically held your hand while you jumped." The words came out like a growl. He was so close to Tyler that the injured angel could feel the heat radiating off the demonic man. "Your human death is cataloged in my memories just as much as it is in yours. You'll understand soon enough."

 

"I'm not taking over your job, if that's what you're insinuating." Tyler said through clenched teeth. "I'm a goner, I don't want to catch my breath anymore, just let me be gone."

 

Satan leaned away from Tyler, mischief painted across his features, "Well, you don't have a choice little dude. You fell and I want to leave this fucking hell hole, and I can't do that if I'm still bound here."

 

"I don't want it."

"Neither did I."

 

The corridor was quiet as the two stared at the each other defiantly. Tyler's unease grew as he glared at the nonhuman person in front of him.

"I don't even know what you want from me." Tyler said, realizing that he was still an angel, and the man in front of him obviously wasn't.

 

"Well, I was going to give you a polite tour of the place and then kindly ask you to take a hearty sip of my blood to set me free, but it looks like you aren't going to appreciate my generosity." Brendon stood up straight and crossed his arms, narrowing his blood red eyes at Tyler, his words dripping with sarcasm.

 

"I have t-to drink your blood?" Tyler blanched, shoving himself further into the chair. "No way, y-you're insane. Just kill me instead. I'm not performing your weird sacrifice."

 

"You're always so suicidal, can't you cool it with the whole death thing for once. You'd think dying half a dozen times would calm a guy down." Brendon shook his head and turned Tyler's wheelchair back around, pushing him through the halls again. The angel didn't question Brendon's supposed knowledge of his many deaths.

"Can you blame me?" Tyler grumbled, his eyes rolling while his distaste for Satan grew. The only response Tyler gained was a "tch" sound behind him. The hall opened up to a larger open space, now with dark marble floors and a large chandelier lit with candles hanging from a detailed ceiling. Tyler tried to look around more but he felt the wheelchair halt and then his body being launched forward off the chair. The angel groaned again as he slid across the smooth, clean floor.

 

"What the-" Tyler started, wondering what sparked the Devil to throw him across the room, though his voice cut off when he saw the man taking a sharp claw to his other hand and scratching deeply across his palm, blood pooling quickly.

"I'm sick of waiting, Ty-Ty, I've been here too long," Brendon said in a sing-song voice, quickly walking towards Tyler with an unnatural grace, he looked like a suicidal lion with blood dripping down his arm. Tyler wasn't dumb, he knew Brendon was going to force him to drink his blood. The angel gripped at the floor, doing his best to crawl away from Brendon. A loud laugh only mocked Tyler's efforts, footsteps growing closer as well as Tyler's dread and fear.

 

The defiant angel crawled on injured arms and legs, moving through the intense pain coursing through his bones. His eyes landed on a vase standing proudly on a small, decorative table, and a plan sparked in his head. He changed his direction and pulled himself away from Brendon as fast as he could. The marble floors provided little grip, the fabric bandages covering Tyler's body causing him to slid around, making it harder to move. Tears were pricking at his eyes from the sharp pains shooting up his arms, legs, and body. The angel was gasping as he reached the small table, throwing his body into the legs and knocking down the vase. The decoration fell to the floor and shattered. Brendon was making the mistake of taking his time, strolling towards the angel, who was currently sifting through the mess of shattered ceramic.

"Really? I liked that vase you asshole." Brendon was only a few feet from Tyler, holding his bleeding hand in front of as if trying to keep the dark blood from staining his clothes.

 

Tyler desperately search through the rubble of the vase, looking for a piece that was large enough and sharp enough to satisfy his needs. Brendon was basically standing in front of him, looking down at Tyler confusedly. The angel only grabbed a jagged piece of the vase and brought it to his throat, flinching as he started to reopen the cuts in his neck.

 

"What the fuck are you doing?" Brendon said with wide eyes and clenched teeth, he looked like a genuine predator.

 

"Can't drink your blood if I can't swallow," Tyler hissed through his tense jaw, ready to slit his throat, it was a desperate attempt, but he had to try.

Brendon only smiled and broke out laughing, "What is wrong with you?"

Tyler only stared with wide eyes at Brendon who looked like he was about to go hysterical. The angel dug the ceramic deeper into his neck, a hiss escaping his lips and alerting Satan.

"Right," the dark haired man was suddenly kneeling between Tyler's legs and snatching the jagged object from Tyler's hands, throwing it over his shoulder, it clattered somewhere behind him. "None of that," Brendon chuckled, "Open wide!" Brendon brought his bleeding hand to Tyler's face, using his uninjured hand to hold the angel's head still. Tyler clawed at Brendon's wrist, struggling with tears starting to stream down his face. He had no idea what this was, he'd woken up less than twenty minutes ago, he'd met this man less than twenty minutes ago. He'd thought that maybe, just maybe, he could just stop existing when he fell from the sky, but now he was being forced into another eternity that he didn't want.

Brendon's warm and thick blood started to seep through Tyler's pressed lips despite the angel's efforts to keep it out. Satan brought his clawed hand to Tyler's lips to separate them, a manic grin plastered to his face as he forced bloodied fingers down the boy's throat. Tyler gagged, tasting the metallic flavor of blood spreading across his tongue. Brendon did something to Tyler's neck that forced the angel to swallow, blood sliding down his throat, and then the demonic man sat back and released a joyful breath. The situation went from zero, to one hundred, and immediately back to zero.

"Fucking finally, man," glee filled his eyes, "I think it takes a second, but you didn't need to put up such a fuss. You should be used to things being shoved down your throat anyway."

 

A breathless Tyler glared at Brendon, being unable to move or really do anything because of the pain spreading through his body.

 

"I'm joking, jeez," Brendon stood and wiped his palms on his dark pants, "Here's a few tips so that you don't die of boredom down here...not that you can die anymore," Brendon eyed Tyler wearily, knowing that the angel would try to off himself until he was successful.

 

"Anywhere when it's three a.m. you can go there, on Earth I mean. You've got the hour in that time-zone, but you can't like stay on Earth, it's limited to one trip every forty-eight hours or so. You'll see how to do that in a second cause that's how I'm getting out of this shit fest." Tyler only looked at Brendon with a bored expression as he tried to calm the pain in his body.

"Be careful outside of the house, the shadows mostly obey you but they're like large fucking rodents, there's no need for you leave anyway, there's nothing out there. There are souls around here that aren't shadows or fallen angels, you'll meet them eventually I guess, anyone that isn't you will probably be mauled by the shadows unless you stop them. You're a king now, ruler of Hell, you should be happy for such a great title!" Brendon chuckled, his sarcasm practically shooting from his voice, Tyler glared harder.

 

"I know, I know, you'd much rather be dead and unable to exist ever again, but technically you are dead, very dead. You're probably gonna pass out in a few minutes here anyway, so on the bright side, you'll probably be pretty much healed, but you'll be going through a nice demon puberty the next few days. You'll figure out the rest eventually, you're going in with more information than I had, so be fucking thankful. Just repeat what I did to you when the next angel falls and you can return to Earth and find a way to kill yourself up there, patience pipsqueak." With that, Brendon shot a salute in Tyler's direction and spun on his heel, walking to a door that was placed in the middle of the opening, something that Tyler hadn't noticed with the earlier conflict. Brendon knocked on the door six times and said something but Tyler's vision was going fuzzy and his hearing sounded distorted. The last thing Tyler saw before his surroundings were spinning completely was Brendon stepping through the door that was opened to a sprawling city street.

 

Tyler blacked out way too often and never gained the result he was hoping for.

 

Let him die this time.

 

~

 

Of course, his wish wouldn't be granted, that was too much to ask for. The angel groaned as he sat up, rubbing his head, which felt like it was splitting in two, though the rest of the pain he remembered having seemed to have disappeared entirely. So Brendon had been right about that. Tyler stood on mostly steady feet, his throbbing head throwing him off balance slightly. The bandages that wrapped his body were even bloodier than they'd been when he'd first seen them, from the conflict with Satan, most likely reopening all his wounds. Tyler wanted to explore the large house more, but he wanted to get all the blood off of him. If he had to exist, he at least wanted to be clean doing it. The angel's first mission was to find a shower, or a bath, something.

Tyler headed down the hallway that the Devil had previously wheeled him through, back in the direction of the room he'd woken up in. The heavy doors were still open, he was able to see the room more clearly. There was another door in the room and Tyler stalked his way over to it. Looking upon the room where he'd been earlier. he realized that it was actually quite comfy despite it's intimidatingly dark colors. He made it to a door that was position on the other side of the bed than the side Tyler had slid off of earlier, hence why he didn't really notice it hiding in the wall. He peaked in the room and by some miracle he found a beautiful bathroom, complete with a toilet, a sink and vanity with an enormous mirror, one of those bathtubs that you only saw in movies that stood on little golden legs, and an extremely detailed shower. Tyler's knees almost gave out in amazement.

 

Hell had running water. He wasn't going to question it. The irony of it was nearly crippling.

 

Tyler practically slammed the bathroom door behind him in a rush to take advantage of the shower he'd revealed. Locking the handle behind him, Tyler started to pull at the bandages encasing his body. They peeled off along with dried blood, Tyler's need to get into the shower grew as his dirt and bloodstained skin became more revealed. The angel sighed with relief when his wings were no long pressed against his body, giving them a light stretch, it was harder to see white on them now because they were so encased in blood, dirt, and only god knows what else...or Satan he guesses. He was so dirty that some places of his skin weren't even remotely a skin tone, his arms especially. Tyler avoided the mirror, not wanting to see how disgusting his face was, and he turned on the shower which had one of those sliding glass doors. The shower was huge, absolutely enormous inside, you could fit like six people in there, the angel had to keep his jaw from dropping. He took off his shorts, which were now speckled with blood, and stepped inside, sliding the glass shut behind him. Tyler fumbled with the faucet handles before water started spraying down on him, it was cold so he jumped back with a yelp, trying not to slip on the tiled floor of the shower. He figured out how to make the water warm and sighed as it poured over his body, soothing the pounding in his head and washing the grime from his skin.

Tyler scrubbed himself with his hands, he'd found a bottle of three-in-one soap that was labeled 'Dark Lavender', it smelled pleasant enough and it was doing it's job. The angel ran the soap through his hair and watched as soapy, yet dirty, water fell to the shower floor. He hadn't showered since his human life, you usually didn't need to as an angel. He wiped at his body and washed blindly, keeping his eyes closed to avoid soap from invading them. The angel eventually turned his back to the faucet and let the water cascade over his wings, shaking them out and reaching behind him to assist in cleaning them. He opened his eyes as he cleaned, humming a melancholy tune with a quiet voice. Tyler brought his hands up to wipe at his eyes and clear away some water, he nearly fainted when he saw them.

 

His hands and wrists were a faded black, like they'd been burned, which technically they had. Tyler's breathing sped up as he stared at his arms, holding them away from his body. The angel let out a weird sob like sound as he ripped open the shower door, keeping himself from slipping as he ran to the large mirror atop the bathroom vanity. Tyler frantically wiped away the collected steam on the glass and almost screamed when he made eye contact with himself in the mirror.

 

Tyler's irises were the same bright red that he remembered Brendon having, his neck was the same faded black as his hands. He stepped away from the mirror, hyperventilating because of his appearance. He noticed that the wings arching above his back were no longer white, they were a glistening black that shone red with the dim light of the bathroom. Tyler's legs gave out, his eyes felt heavy with oncoming tears of panic, he was lying naked on the floor curled up in a ball. He started to shiver because the heat of the water left him, he laid in a puddle sobbing without any tears, he had no idea what was going on, except that he did. Brendon did this to him, Brendon had already had this happy to him, it was Tyler's turn.

 

Tyler didn't want his turn.

Tyler wanted his fluffy, white wings and his soft, pale skin. Tyler wanted his angelic glow and whatever purity he had left after his trauma. The thing he saw in the mirror wasn't him.

 

Tyler scratched at his arms and neck, irritating the skin as he rubbed at it, trying, to no avail, to get the dark color from his skin. He scratched until his arms bled and his neck was raw. The boy picked himself up from the ground and made his way back into the shower, which was still spewing warm water. Tyler's newfound scratches stung under the stream, he stayed quiet as his headache had intensified inside his skull. He was so tired.

 

Tyler stood under the faucet for what could've been hours or minutes. The water had numbed Tyler's skin with the constant flow. He lazily brought a hand up to turn the shower off. When he finally stepped out again he had blank eyes, a tired body, and a migraine. He found a towel and half-heartedly wrapped it around his waist before exiting the bathroom. There was a mirror in the bedroom Tyler was now coming to claim as his own. The boy walked to the mirror and looked at his reflection.

 

All Tyler saw was a blurry face with a bruised neck and shackled hands.

He sat on his bed, his short hair dripping down his back, he just stayed there. And now, he just sits in silence.

________________________________________________________________________

**Author's Note:**

> A/N- hello. This is the first chapter of a very important fic. lots of things are going to be explained and I hope people will stick around long enough to see the end of this story, which may take awhile. If you enjoyed this please, leave a like and comment, I love comments with all my heart.
> 
> The future of this will hold just as much disturbing content if not more as this chapter, please, if you are sensitive to this, pay attention to warnings in the tags and description. Chapter two will hold the mysteries of what Josh is up to.
> 
> 1-800-273-8255 suicide prevention hotline
> 
>  
> 
> STAY ALIVE ll-// I LOVE YOU AND SO DO OTHERS, YOU ARE MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOU KNOW, LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO LEARN. IF YOU NEED A SIGN TO LIVE, THIS IS IT. STAY ALIVE FOR ME, FOR YOU, AND FOR THEM. EMOTIONS DON'T MAKE YOU WEAK, YOU ARE SO, SO STRONG. LIVE AND MAKE THE WORLD REGRET STIFLING YOUR BLINDING LIGHT. I KNOW IT'S HARD, BUT YOU'RE MADE IT THIS LONG, YOU CAN STAY ALIVE.
> 
> ⊬ I LOVE YOU. ⊬


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